


Crystal Grace

by inquisitorsmabari



Series: Inquisitor Bridie Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age Valentines 2018, F/M, Fluff, Gift Fic, One Shot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 20:29:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13666716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitorsmabari/pseuds/inquisitorsmabari
Summary: Lavellan wakes from a nap one day to find a gift left outside her tent, but who is it from?





	Crystal Grace

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Valentine's gift for the Tumblr Dragon Age Valentine's event, hope you all enjoy it, it's my first attempt at writing Solavellan properly. I kept it as a largely non-descript Lavellan so that everyone can enjoy it :)

Why were they back in the Hinterlands?

She couldn’t believe her luck when she was told to head back there again. She’d loved it the first time she’d come here, it was so nice to be back in the heart of nature once again, surrounded by trees and open fields and the smell of pollen. But now, she had begun to grow sick of the sight of it all, and she’d naively thought that, after all the trouble trying to recruit the mages at Redcliffe, she would be done with it. But, no, because those Tevinter magisters just had to get in the way.

After days of wandering through endless fields and pockets of trees, they finally reached the lakeside camp, which had always been her favourite, the delicate song of the crystal clear water luling her into a dreamless sleep once she retreated to her tent, escaping her companions for a brief moment of time to enter the world of the Fade. She woke only once the sun had set, the moonlight reflecting off of the lake and filling the camp with a ghostly white glow, which entered her tent as she pulled apart the canvas. She stretched, rubbing her eyes fervently as she tried to throw off the heavy shroud of sleep as she stood on tiptoes, her body stiff and sore as it protested against her waking.

She froze mid-stretch as her eyes fell upon the ground outside her tent. A bundle of flowers, tied together with a hempen rope, lay delicately on the grassy floor which had turned a deep blue under the night sky. A practical joke, she gathered, Dorian getting in a quick laugh before their trip to certain doom. He seemed like the kind of man to do that, what with the quips he kept throwing at them all the way from Haven. Obviously, this Dorian thought he was hilarious.

She was sure of this even as she picked them up quickly and brought them inside, placing them upon the small table at the side of her bed on top of her collection of notes and her leather bound diary. Then, as she slumped back onto the thin mattress of her camp bed, she found herself returning to the flowers, examining the petals which were so soft to the touch, she could have been stroking thin air. They were delicate, beautiful, and familiar, but she could not remember why.

Then, after some time, it hit her. _Crystal Grace_. She’d seen them last time they were here, and even then she’d remarked upon their beauty. The plant had little use, that she knew of, but it was at the very least an elegant and beautiful flower, even with the strange tendrils which twisted out of the base of the petals. She imagined Dorian sat in his tent laughing to himself at his little prank, reminding her of their last gruelling trip to the Hinterlands where she’d pointed out the strange, but beautiful, flora.

Except he hadn’t been there last time, in fact, they hadn’t even met him yet. That was before Redcliffe, _before_ they met Alexius.

So who, in the name of the Creators, left a bunch of flowers outside of her tent? And what the hell did it mean?

Well it wasn’t Cassandra, she could rule that out. They got along fine, sure, but she wasn’t the type to joke around. So, if she was going to leave some flowers for her, she would mean it, and she was around 90% sure that she didn’t fancy her. But then that left Solas, who was _definitely_ not the type to joke around like that. But then he’d hardly spoken a word to her either, bar that one time he told her just how much he hated the Dalish, that had really made her feel wanted.

But then there was that other time, the time at Haven. What had he called her? _Graceful._ It wasn’t hard to make the leap between that, and the Crystal Grace flowers which now lay in her lap. But, surely, she was wrong. Surely…

She went back over all the times she had spent with him since the Conclave. All the times he had smiled at her, told her stories of the ancient world or the Fade, or saved her from being flanked with a quick blast of ice. Then her mind went back to that first meeting, where he had grabbed her marked hand and pressed it towards the sky, the power surging through her fingers as they closed the Rift, together. He had shown her what she was capable of, given her a chance when no one else had. And then he had smiled and told her his name and, for the first time since all this had started, she had found a friendly face.

But what did this all mean? Was there more than just friendliness in his eyes when he looked at her? Is that what he had tried to tell her with these innocent looking flowers? And, more importantly, how was she meant to spend the whole day trekking along the West Road with him tomorrow now that these thoughts had filled her mind?

These questions filled her mind long into the night as she drifted between the waking world and the Fade, her mind once again racing with confusing thoughts each time she resurfaced into the world of reality. Until, eventually, the sun began to rise, filtering in through the gaps in the canvas, and she gave in. Rising from her bed, she clothed herself in her armour and fastened her hair in its usual style. But, this time, she plucked the head off of one of the plants which lay on top of her diary, and tucked it into her braided hair, the elegant petals with their long pink tendrils sitting delicately behind her ear.

His face when she emerged from her tent, and he spotted the flower behind her ear, told her everything she needed to know.


End file.
